The Fight
by RunningInAir
Summary: City of Glass. Spoilers (obviously - if you haven't read that far in the series yet). This is the scene in which Clary walks in on Aline and Jace kissing in Alicante from Jace's perspective. One-shot.


A/N: Just a quick note here. Everything in **bold** is dialogue directly from Cassandra Clare's "City of Glass." I just wanted to make that very clear. Not trying to claim her writing as my own. :) I just really enjoy writing scenes in the books from Jace's perspective. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Reviews, as always, are extremely welcome.

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The sunlight was streaming through the window and casting shadows across the floor in the pattern of the beams that ran across the panes horizontally and vertically. If he stepped to the side, the shadows would form a cross on the floor, as if even the windows of the buildings in Alicante were meant to ward off demons. His shoulder hurt where he had leaned against the corner of the wall for so long, just staring out at the tops of the other buildings, his gaze continuously drawn to the gleaming white towers. The sleeve of the dark sweater he wore fell down his arm as he lifted a hand up to his mouth, teeth worrying at the nails. It hurt. The habit was one he had only picked up a few days ago, but he had done it so much over the course of those few days that the nails were bitten all the way back to the beds, the skin pink and raw, but he couldn't stop. The pain was at least something to feel in a time when there was nothing inside him.

Nothing at all.

A soft knock interrupted his dismal thoughts. Turning, he eyed the door with disinterest, his hand dropping to wipe his fingers on his pants. He could always just not answer, pretend he wasn't here. No one had seen him come in; they could very well think he was still with Alec, though that wasn't likely. He wasn't _of age_ yet. That thought only put him in a fouler mood, blond eyebrows drawing down in frustration.

"Jace? Are you in there?"

_Aline._

He sighed, his eyelids sliding closed and his body relaxing fully against the wall. He didn't mind the Penhallow girl, necessarily, but he wasn't in the mood to entertain. Not even close. The back of his head thudded against the wall as his thoughts, as they invariably did when any female was anywhere near him, went to Clary. Merely her name sent stabs of pain through his chest, briefly filling up that nothingness with an agony so sharp it was nearly sweet.

What was _wrong_ with him that he would crave his own sister in such a desperate manner? It should, by all rights, be disgusting, but he couldn't stop it. Perhaps Valentine had raised a monster after all. _Surely you didn't expect __**this**__ outcome, huh, father?_ He thought bitterly, his own unspoken words slithering like venom in his mind.

"Jace?" Another set of knocks.

Taking another deep breath, he pushed off the wall and moved across the room. His hand remained curled around the doorknob for a moment while he gathered himself, arranging his features into the carefully created mask he had grown so perfect at putting in place – the Shadowhunter who didn't care about anyone but himself, who didn't feel pain, and who always had a witty remark on the tip of his tongue.

The version of Jace that everyone expected to see.

When he pulled the door open, Aline's mouth fell into a small 'o' of shock, which quickly melted into a pleased smile.

"So you _are_ here."

"Apparently so." He let one side of his lips lift up into a smirk, his arms crossed over his chest, unknowingly emphasizing just how much weight he had lost recently. "To what do I owe this unexpected – though not entirely unwelcome – visit?"

Aline stepped into the room, brushing past him. It took a monumental effort to not stiffen as she deliberately, and quite obviously, pressed her body close to his – much closer than was strictly necessary to enter the room. But Jace was nothing if not an immaculate actor. Angling his body to follow hers, he reached behind him to push the door closed with his palm before stepping closer. Her voice floated over her shoulder as she answered, "You're the most interesting person in this house at present."

"At present? Don't you mean _all the time?_"

Her dark hair lifted away from her back as she spun around to face him, amusement and delight dancing across her face. _She __**is**__ pretty,_ Jace thought dimly, but Aline's looks meant nothing to him. Her smile might be the most dazzling smile, her eyes might sparkle the brightest, but they would never compare to the shy grin and emerald shades of the only girl he could seem to care about. _If only I could stop caring about her…_

"Maybe." There was a spark in her eyes that Jace knew all too well, a playfulness to her smile that had a feeling of dread pooling into the pit of his stomach, but he hadn't expected anything else when she had shown up at his door. Aline was more soft-spoken than most Shadowhunters Jace had known, but she had not made her feelings towards him a secret by any means. "I just thought you might want some company." Her voice had dropped slightly, her smile turning a bit more nervous as she stepped even closer to him.

"I tend to be the brooding-in-solitude type. Haven't you heard?" Long arms dropped from their defensive position across his chest, as he forced his body to relax. Jace Wayland – _Morgenstern_, he corrected himself – was not opposed to having a woman in his bedroom.

"Doesn't that get boring after a while?" The words were innocent enough, but his eyes dropped to Aline's hands as her fingers slowly unclasped the top few buttons of her shirt, revealing a fine line of darkly-colored lace. Swallowing thickly, pushing down the reluctance and distaste that was threatening to rise up his esophagus, Jace lifted his gaze to her face. There was the softest hint of color in her cheeks, and he wondered if she had ever dared to be so brazen before.

"Are you kidding?" He realized his voice had dropped too, and he cleared his throat, amber eyes trained on the girl in front of him. "My company is so illustrious that I often seek to be alone just so I can enjoy it more." She was now standing so close to him that he could have counted the individual eyelashes as she looked up, meeting his gaze. The only thing he could think was how he'd so much rather be looking into two pools of vibrant green, and simultaneously how he wanted to completely forget the girl those eyes belonged to…even as Aline tilted her head back and brushed her lips against his in an extremely hesitant manner.

Slowly, Jace let his arms slide around her waist. He hated himself for it, but every second he was comparing her to Clary. Every curve of her body, every touch. And he despised himself even more because he wanted to like this, he wanted to enjoy himself…but he just couldn't.

_The pain of wanting to hate someone you love is surely the purest hell that exists._

"Illustrious?" Her lips brushed his again as she moved them in speech, her breath warm and sweet where it ghosted across his mouth. "Can I bask in your _illustrious_ company with you?" Encouraged by his own movements, her arms slid up and around his neck, her fingers sliding through the blond strands at the back of his head. _Wrong. Wrong. This is wrong._ His mind rebelled against her touch, but he knew it was better than standing around and pining after his own _sister._

"Aline…" He wanted to tell her to leave, that her expectations in coming here were unfounded, that he couldn't give her what she wanted for one reason or another, but he never had a chance to complete his sentence. Maybe she took him muttering her name as a sign to continue her advances, because before he could even decide how the rest of his sentence was going to progress, she was leaning into him until her body was flush against his own and the pressure of her lips on his increased exponentially. It was more of a reflex than a desire that had the blond Shadowhunter wrapping his arms more tightly around Aline's body. His heart was thundering in his ears, but it was a grim mockery of the way Clary's kiss could make his pulse race erratically; this was a pounding of uncertainty. How was he going to extricate himself from her grasp without hurting her feelings or making her question his motives? The last thing he wanted was for anyone in this house to start to _worry _about him.

_Bang._

The door slamming startled the both of them, and they broke apart quickly. Jace turned to see who his savior had been…and froze. There was no way…absolutely _no way_ this was possible. She had been in New York. He had made _sure_ she would stay behind. He didn't want her anywhere near Alicante…near him.

But there was no denying it. Clary Fray was most certainly present and accounted for.

As he stared at her, disbelieving, he noticed the paleness of her features, the expression of nausea that twisted at her mouth. He was so familiar with every movement her face made that, even after being apart from her and studiously avoiding her, he could pick right back up on her every thought, just by the position of her body, the angle of her lips, the shade of her irises. Jace could read Clary like she was his favorite book, like he knew every page intimately, could recite every word from memory.

"**Excuse me. Who are you?"**

Aline's voice jolted Jace out of his horrific thoughts. He hadn't even begun to comprehend that Clary had seen him kissing another girl; he couldn't stop worrying about why she was here, how she was here, and how the hell he was going to get her _back_ to the Institute in New York before anyone found her. Her talents, the things she had done, needed to stay secret. The Clave would never let her go if they knew what she could do…

And in an instant of heart-stopping clarity, Jace knew exactly what the quickest way to get Clary to leave would be.

"**Aline,"** he said, keeping his voice as deadpan as he possibly could. **"This is my sister, Clary."**

Even saying those words felt like swallowing battery acid, the taste of them burning his tongue even after they had left his mouth.

"**Oh. **_**Oh.**_**Sorry! What a way to meet you. Hi, I'm Aline."**

Aline moved forward, her intent clear as she lifted one arm towards Clary. _Is she even aware that her shirt is still partially undone?_ Looking at Clary, he saw the panic flicker in her eyes, warring with disgust and sheer fear. _She doesn't want to touch her. She just saw me kissing her, and now she can't even shake her hand._ Jace could feel what was left of his heart breaking off into pieces, shattering and fading away into the nothingness that filled his chest. If he could turn back time and erase this moment from ever happening, he would in a heartbeat, but there was nothing to be done for it now but see it through. He held Clary's gaze as he reached out and placed his hands on Aline's shoulders, pulling her back towards him, so he could lean down and whisper into her ear.

"Give me some time with my sister. I'll meet you later, if you'd like."

It was a lie. A bitter lie. But thankfully she only shrugged and left the room. Suddenly, with just the two of them there, the space felt much too small. The shelves of books that lined the walls felt like they might come crashing down at any moment, burying him under their weight. For an instant, Jace wondered if that might not be the best thing that could happen. The last thing he wanted was to be in this room with Clary…but it was the _only_ thing he wanted at the same time. The indecision, the back and forth of his desires, was driving him crazy. He knew the way his appearance had changed; he wasn't blind. It was only a matter of time before Alec or someone else asked him what was wrong and he would have to keep up the same charade as ever, when all he wanted was to lay down and never have to get back up again. He was so tired of it all.

"**Jace."**

She moved closer, and he fought every instinct in his body and stepped back, maintaining the distance between them. _If you get too close to me, Clary…I don't know what I'll do._ That scared him more than anything else ever had. But Jace did what Jace always did – he channeled the emotions he couldn't control into one that he understood all too well: _anger_.

"**What in the name of the Angel, Clary, are you doing here?"**

He lashed out at her, using his tongue as a verbal whip. If he could hurt her, she would leave. Surely to _god_, she would leave. As the ramifications of her presence being found out flitted through his mind one after another, his horror only grew. She needed to leave. Now.

"**You could at least pretend you were glad to see me. Even a little bit."**

Despite how much the monstrous and disgusting part of himself wanted to see her, he couldn't let that show. **"I'm not glad to see you." **His voice came out steadier this time as he gradually got himself back under control. **"Not even a little bit."**

Golden eyes met green and he saw the very real hurt flash through her features. _He was right_, he thought with the frightful clarity that only came in the worst moments of your life – the moments that you never wanted to remember but knew you would never forget. _To love is to destroy._

"**This isn't you. I hate it when you act like this –"**

Too much.

"**Oh, you hate it, do you? Well, I'd better stop doing it, then, hadn't I? I mean, you do everything **_**I**_** ask you to do."**

Color flooded her cheeks as the hurt was joined by fury. _Good,_ he thought. _Get mad at me, Clary. Be furious with me, Fray._

"**You had no right to do what you did! Lying to me like that. You had no right –"**

"**I had **_**every right**_**!" **He let her anger fuel his own, raising his voice to her for the first time. It felt horrible to shout at her, but on another, deeper level it felt _good_. Too good. Like he was venting out all his frustration, all his self-loathing into this one conversation. **"I had every right, you stupid, stupid girl. I'm your brother and I –"**

"**And you what? You own me? You don't own me, whether you're my brother or not!"**

Every time that word was spoken, it stung a little bit more, like salt was being rubbed into the same wound over and over again. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the rough, bitten-down nails digging into his palm with a dull ache. He rode the wave of anger, letting it wash over and through him, filling up the emptiness inside with something tangible, something he could hold to. Maybe this was no more than he deserved. Surely the fact that she had found her way here was some sort of cosmic punishment for him: to be faced with not only the sibling that he loved in a way he should _not_, but to have her safety at risk at the same time.

He opened his mouth, an angry retort ready, but the door burst open once more. This time it was Alec who stood on the threshold. Jace met his gaze, and he looked absolutely flabbergasted. Jace instantly schooled his own features. The fear, the horror, the rage – he wiped it all away until his expression revealed absolutely nothing. A cold exterior that was just as much to protect him as it was to protect others.

"**What in all possible dimensions is going on here? Are you two trying to kill each other?"**

It was easier than it should have been to reach inside himself and find that emotionless, nonchalant voice that he had once used in his everyday life. Clary had changed him so much and so thoroughly. _What does it say about me that I can so quickly revert back to this horrible state? What kind of monster must I be to so easily find this place inside myself?_

"**Not at all." **By the tone in his voice, it was as if absolutely nothing had happened. **"Clary was just leaving."**

His eyes stayed resolutely on his parabatai. If he looked overly-long at Clary, he didn't know what kind of emotions might come pouring out. He wasn't sure if he could handle more of that unbridled anger, or keep a hold on his steadily-rising panic if he were to see the expression on her face.

"**Good because I need to talk to you, Jace."**

Careful to keep his face impassive, he stared hard into Alec's eyes. Something had most certainly happened. The eldest of the Lightwoods' children was typically serious, but there was an urgent undertone to his voice that wasn't normally there.

"**Doesn't anyone in this house ever say, 'Hi, nice to see you' anymore?"**

"**It **_**is**_** good to see you, Clary, except of course for the fact that you're really not supposed to be here. Isabelle told me you got here on your own somehow, and I'm impressed –"**

"**Could you **_**not**_** encourage her?"**

His tone was perhaps a bit more clipped than necessary, but honestly. The last thing he needed was for someone to make Clary think her decision had been a _good_ one when it had been anything but. The only thing he required was for everyone to leave him the hell alone for a few minutes so he could think. There had to be a swift way to get Clary back to New York before the Clave found out she was here. The other two occupants of the room continued talking, their voices slowly becoming more and more irritating.

"**But I really, really need to talk to Jace about something. Can you give us a few minutes?"**

"**I need to talk to him, too. About our mother –"**

"**I don't feel like talking," **he finally interjected, flicking his narrowed gaze from one of them to the other, **"to either of you, as a matter of fact."**

"**Yes, you do." **Jace paused his gaze on Alec's face as he started talking again. **"You really want to talk to me about this."**

"**I doubt that." **Looking back at Clary, he let his eyes remain steady on hers for a moment. How _had _she gotten here, anyway? The portal had closed behind them, but she had shown up much too quickly…she must have had help. Oh, god. There were probably more people in danger than he had first thought. Could she have possibly messed things up _more?_ **"You didn't come here alone, did you? Who came with you?"**

"**Luke. Luke came with me."**

Yep – she just made things worse. She had somehow managed to bring a Downworlder into Alicante, the place where they were most certainly not allowed – especially unregistered ones as Luke was. He could tell, in that moment, that Clary had no idea what she had done. His heart twisted in his chest. Her impulsiveness – a trait he had once found endearing – was now endangering her life and the lives of others. He couldn't reign in his anger any longer. Instead, he funneled all of his emotions into it, pushing them through into this one emotion, though he felt his own skin pale as a cold fear washed through him.

"**But Luke is a Downworlder. Do you know what the Clave does to unregistered Downworlders who come into the Glass City – who cross the wards without permission? Coming to Idris is one thing, but entering Alicante? Without telling anyone?"**

Clary's voice was low, just above a whisper, **"No, but I know what you're going to say –"**

"**That if you and Luke don't go back to New York immediately, you'll find out?"**

His hands opened and closed into fists at his sides as he stared hard at her, willing her to understand – or at least to _trust_ him on this. Jace had lived in the world of Shadowhunters nearly his whole life, much longer than Clary had. He knew their rules. He knew the way they thought, how they worked. He knew _exactly_ what the Clave would do to Luke if they found him, let alone the things they would want from Clary if they got their greedy, selfish, and fearful hands on her. As all of these things rushed through his mind, Jace had almost forgotten that Alec was still there, standing in the room, and staring at him with panicked eyes.

"**Jace, haven't you wondered where I've been all day?"**

He couldn't be bothered right now to care about Alec's problems. He was his parabatai, yes, but he had to focus on Clary right now. Alec was of age. Alec could handle his own issues for the moment. His eyes didn't waver once from Clary as he bit out a sarcastic response.

"**That's a new coat you're wearing. I figure you went shopping. Though why you're so eager to bother me about it, I have no idea."**

"**I didn't go shopping." **Alec's voice was slowly rising in pitch and fervor. A pang of guilt spread through Jace's chest. He didn't want to ignore his best friend, his brother, but there was so much that needed done right now. **"I went –"**

Unbelievably, the door opened once more, Isabelle rushing in and shutting it behind her. If one more person came into this room right now, Jace might explode. As it was, he let out a frustrated sound halfway between a sigh and a groan, his eyes rolling noticeably.

"**I told you he'd freak out. Didn't I?"**

Oh, of all the immature…** "Ah, the 'I told you so.' Always a classy move."**

"**How can you **_**joke?**_** You just threatened Luke. Luke, who likes you and trusts you. Because he's a **_**Downworlder.**_** What's wrong with you?"**

Fury pumped through Jace's chest, racing side by side with the desperate fear that continued to pound through his veins. She really had absolutely no idea what she was saying. Jace didn't have a problem with Luke. He was a pretty decent guy, for a werewolf, and Jace could respect the things he had done for Clary and her mother. She didn't get that _he_ wasn't the one doing the threatening; he was merely trying to make her see what _others_ would do. But, as usual, when Clary was upset and fearing for the lives of those she loved, she cast the blame where she first thought it deserved to be. Maybe she was pushing her frustration and anger onto him because of other issues that still lay unresolved between them, but that wasn't fair. Jace had enough guilt and pain weighing down on his shoulders without the added, misplaced blame for _her_ own mistakes.

He barely glanced at Isabelle, merely noting that her expression of abject horror was the same as Clary's, though probably for very different reasons.

"**Luke's here?" **Isabelle repeated, her voice full of worry. **"Oh, Clary –"**

"**He's **_**not**_** here. He left – this morning – and I don't know where he went. But I can certainly see now why he had to go. Fine. You win. We should never have come." **A rush of pure relief nearly knocked Jace off his feet. Was she actually going to leave without putting up more of a fight? Could they actually get out of this relatively unscathed? But before that relief could fully take hold, her next sentence knocked it all away, sending him spiraling back into the pit of worry and fear from which he couldn't seem to claw his way out. **"I should never have made that Portal –"**

"_**Made**_** a Portal? Clary, only a warlock can make a Portal. And there aren't very many of them. The only Portal here in Idris is in the Gard."**

Jace was barely paying attention to what Isabelle was saying. She could insist that only warlocks could make portals all she wanted, but if Clary said she had made one, he didn't doubt her. He had seen first-hand what her abilities could do. _That's why she needs to get the hell out!_ He was screaming in his own mind. The entire room started spinning around him, the faces of the others swirling about in a miasma of expressions. The desire to protect Clary from all who would harm her was battling with the frustration and anger that they could have avoided this entire situation if she would have just _listened to him!_

"**Which is what I had to talk to you about." **His parabatai's voice was barely heard in the golden-eyed boy's ears. Jace only had eyes for Clary in that moment, and he knew his face must depict the raging war of emotions flooding him. **"About the errand I went on last night – the thing I had to deliver to the Gard –"**

He couldn't even handle anything else right now.

"**Alec, stop. **_**Stop.**_**"** He wasn't sure if it was the sheer desperation in his tone, or if the fact that he was interrupting the man that was closer to him than any blood relative could ever be, but Alec stopped talking. Jace didn't even spare him a glance; he couldn't look away from Clary. She had to understand what she had done. She had to realize that her decisions were no longer just about her. She had come into this world, this completely new place in which she was nothing but a child, and was still acting as if she had no responsibilities, as if her actions had no consequences. But the Angel take him, he didn't want to be the one to have to tell her these things. He didn't want to have to do what he knew he had to do to get it through her stubborn head. The muscles in his abdomen tightened, steeling his gut, and he clenched his hands into fists once again. **"You're right." **He swallowed once to force out the words that he so dreadfully did _not_ want to say. **"You should never have come. I know I told you it's because it isn't safe for you here, but that wasn't true." **_It is true, _he wanted to scream, knowing the words he was about to say would break her heart as surely as they were going to break his own. **"The truth is that I don't want you here because you're rash and thoughtless and you'll mess everything up. It's just how you are. You're not careful, Clary."**

"**Mess…everything…up?" **The emerald eyes he had fallen so in love with were swimming with emotion. Shock, confusion, _hurt_…and it was all he could do to not tell her that was a vicious lie, take her in his arms, and…but no…he couldn't do that at all. He could only straighten his spine, set his shoulders, and get this horrible, horrible thing over and done with, even as every word that fell from his lips cut away another piece of his soul.

"**Oh, **_**Jace.**_**" **

He spared no sight for the girl he loved like a sister, the way he _should_ love the red-haired girl in front of him.

"**You always just race ahead without thinking. You know that, Clary. We'd never have ended up in the Dumort if it wasn't for you."**It was a low blow, and he knew it, but he had to pull out all the stops. If he could break her heart thoroughly enough, despite what it would do to his in return, she would leave; she would leave, and she would never look back. _You need to hate me, Clary, _he silently begged her. _I can never hate you, but if you can hate me…_

"**And Simon would be **_**dead!**_** Doesn't that count for anything? Maybe it was rash, but –"**

"_**Maybe?"**_He forced his voice to raise, coloring it fully with disbelief.

"**But it's not like every decision I've made was a bad one! You said, after what I did on the boat, you **_**said**_** I'd saved everyone's life –"**

He couldn't believe it. Of all the things for her to bring up, when he was already trying to get her out without any more questions or accusations, she just _had_ to mention the boat – the explosive rune she had created that had, in fact, saved them all, but needed to remain a secret. The hurt in his heart flared up into a desperate need for her to get out. He hadn't even told Alec what had happened, his own parabatai. No one but the two of them knew, and that was how it needed to stay.

"**Shut up, Clary, SHUT UP –"**

"**On the boat?" **Alec questioned, and Jace knew that he was going to have to dig even deeper, to pull out that part of him that he tried to ignore – that immoral part of him that he couldn't destroy no matter what he did. **"What about what happened on the boat? Jace –"**

"**I just told you that to keep you from whining!" **He was spiraling out of control, fully giving himself over to that shadowy part of his existence. Interrupting Alec without a care. Hurling his words at Clary like shards of glass, trying to hurt her enough to make her turn and flee. **"You're a disaster for us, Clary!" **He yelled, loathing himself more and more with every single syllable he flung at the girl he loved more than he had ever thought he could love someone. **"You're a mundane, you'll always be one, you'll never be a Shadowhunter. You don't know how to think like we do, think about what's best for everyone – all you ever think about is yourself! But there's a war on now, or there will be, and I don't have time or the inclination to follow around after you, trying to make sure you don't get one of us killed!"**

It had taken everything he had to force that out. There was absolutely nothing else inside him now. Grasping for that level of anger, so near hatred, had nearly killed him. He was suddenly, incredibly tired – exhausted mentally and emotionally. **"Go home, Clary." **He met her gaze solidly, not allowing himself to look away even though the pain and broken trust in her eyes was shearing through him with the agony of seven hells. He looked at her, gold boring into green, making her see the version of him he had never wanted her to know, that boy that Valentine had raised, that boy that knew loving only led to disaster. **"Go home."**

Her mouth worked up and down for a moment, as if she was going to say something, but in the end, she only turned and walked towards the door. Jace winced as both Alec and Isabelle averted their gazes when they stepped out of her way. They were more used to Jace's outbursts, having both been on the receiving end of their fair share in times past, but it had been so long since he had been _this_ bad, and he was almost embarrassed that they had all been there to witness it. He hated seeming out of control, but that's exactly what he was right now. Jace Wayland or Lightwood or Morgenstern or whatever the hell his name really was had steadily lost every ounce of his control. For a split second, Alec looked at Jace, his blue eyes full of sadness and a quiet knowledge. Alec always knew Jace far better than the blond boy wished. His eyes were still slightly wide with shock, but Jace could tell that Alec knew, deep down, that Jace hadn't wanted to do what he had just done, and that there would be repercussions of many kinds.

This time, it was Jace that broke eye contact, his gaze shifting to the back of Clary's head as she reached the door. His eyes feasted on the sight of her copper-colored curls cascading down her back, the stiff set of her shoulders, her tiny frame, her slim waist – all the things that made her _Clary_ – as if he would never get another chance. As he watched, she turned back around to face him, her hand resting on the doorknob just as his had done only a few short moments ago. A few short moments…but everything had changed since then.

"**When you told me the first time that Valentine was your father, I didn't believe it."**He blinked in surprise. Why was she bringing up their father? **"Not just because I didn't want it to be true, but because you weren't anything like him. I've never thought you were anything like him. But you are. You **_**are.**_**"**

Without waiting for any sort of response, she whirled back around and left the room, the door slamming shut with finality behind her – as if with that action all of their opportunities were ending. Clary hadn't just shut the door to the room, she had shut the door on _them._ And Jace knew that with the sinking feeling in his gut that came with any horribly life-altering news.

Silence filled the room. He stood there, motionless, but not from shock. No, Jace wasn't surprised by Clary's words, as hurtful and sharp as they had been. If tongues were capable of causing physical wounds, he had no doubt that both he and Clary would be sliced to shreds. The emotion that kept him there, the reason he had yet to move, was the _guilt_ he felt at her words…

…and the hard truth in them.

Isabelle was the first to break the silence. She cleared her throat and lifted her head to look at him. "Jace, I –"

"Just don't." His tone was cold, emotionless, distant. There was no light left in his eyes; the gold had faded to a more tawny shade. The back that was normally held so straight with confidence, the shoulders that were always pulled back with defiance – daring the world to try anything, were now slumped with acceptance, defeat. With stiff movements, Jace turned and moved back to the window without a single word. The influence of Valentine felt like a shadow that had someone grown too close and was starting to choke him.

_**I've never thought you were anything like him. But you are.**_

_Of course, I am. I am, in the end, what he made me. _Long fingers gripped the lower edge of the window as he stared back out at Alicante. After several long moments of silence, he heard the soft clicks of Isabelle's heeled boots on the floor and then the soft sound of the door being pulled gently to a close. Still, he did not relax. Tension was spiraling through his entire body, culminating in his head where a pounding headache was being born.

He pressed his forehead against the pane, the coolness of the glass soothing the burning feeling of hatred that was coursing heavily through his body. Hatred of himself. Hatred of who he had become. Hatred that he had to hurt the only girl he loved. Hatred for the man who had done this to him. Hatred that he loved anyone at all.

"Jace."

His entire body jerked in surprise at the softly-spoken voice. Without turning, he sighed, his breath temporarily fogging up the window, obscuring his view. "What Alec?"

"By the Angel, Jace, will you turn around?"

For a moment, he seriously considered telling him, in not-too-nice terms, to leave him alone – that he had no interest in anything he could have to say; but it was Alec. Sighing again, this one louder and more exasperated, he pushed away from the windowsill and turned. "You have my complete and undivided attention. What do you want?"

To his credit, Alec didn't even roll his eyes at the sarcasm in his tone. If anything, he merely looked sad, his blue eyes bright and full of emotion, emotion that Jace didn't want to see or acknowledge.

"I just wanted you to know that, for what it's worth, I don't think you're anything like Valentine."

Another small shock went through Jace, his jaw hardening for a moment as he looked at his brother. He nodded, blond hair bobbing slightly with the motion. Alec hesitated as if he was going to say more, but then nodded back and turned, leaving Jace alone in the room.

Pressing his lips tightly together, he closed his eyes, wrapping his arms tightly around his body as if he could keep himself from falling apart with that grip alone. He wanted to believe Alec. He wanted to be the person that the Lightwoods – at least the children – saw when they looked at him. Unbidden, the image of the drawing Clary had rendered of him came to his mind: his own body with angel wings unfurling behind it. But he was no angel. He had never been an angel.

He was only a monster, and that was all he would ever be.

_**But you are.**_

_**You are.**_


End file.
